


Not Your Average Workday

by squidgie



Category: IT Crowd
Genre: Community: comment_fic, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 10:24:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6325291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidgie/pseuds/squidgie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Douglas Reynholm puts the IT department through another trying time, Roy and Moss learn something about each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Your Average Workday

**Author's Note:**

> For the comment_fic community prompt: IT Crowd (or RPF), Roy Trenneman +/ Maurice Moss (or Chris O'Dowd/Richard Ayoade), misuse of email and IM functionality

The basement office had been fairly quiet all morning, with Jen involved in upper-management meetings for most of the morning and Roy's recording advice of, "Did you turn it off and back on?" answering most of the calls. But a remote sounding 'ding', and then Jen's unmistakable, "Oh god, oh god, oh god," breaks the silence.

"What the..." Roy says. Moss turns to him and shrugs as Jen skitters into her office, slamming the door.

Before they can get back to work, the boisterous presence of Douglas Reynholm is echoing off the basement walls. He comes to stand inside the IT office, hands on his hips as he nods to Moss, and then Roy. "Gentlemen," he loudly declares after shooting daggers towards Jen's office.

Roy feels like he wants to slip into the back room with Richmond, and Moss' eyes go a bit big. After sharing a glance, Moss takes the lead. "Yes, sir? What can I do for you?"

"I'm having an issue with my email," Reynholm bellows. He thrusts his Blackberry towards Moss, and adds, "I cannot get this to send to that new saucy little tart down in accounts." Forcing Moss to take the phone, he instructs, "Make it go."

Adjusting his glasses, Moss takes a look at the phone. Roy watches as a stricken look covers Moss' face, and he quickly retakes his seat, putting his head down on his desk, a faint, "Roy..." muffled through the keyboard where his head lays.

Roy gets up and comes to Reynholm's side. "Let me see," he says, taking the phone. Turning to Reynholm, he says, "Okay, so you press this, and then..." The sudden realization of what is on the screen hits him, and he stutters to a halt. "Excuse me, sir," he quietly says, "but are you _quite_ sure you want to send _this_ particular picture to the new girl in accounts?"

"Absolutely," Reynholm replies defiantly. "Why should I not?"

Roy nods, and then swallows, his throat parched. "Very well, sir," he says. Roy smashes a few keys, and then there's the zooming sound effect from the phone, the image swept away on the ether to the awaiting inbox.

Everyone's computer dings at once, and Roy looks to Moss who glances up from his keyboard to the screen, mutters, "Oh dear," and then buries his head once more. Fearing the worst, then ignoring Jen's sudden scream of "Jesus Christ!" from behind the closed door, Roy pulls out his iPhone and glances at his email.

"Bollocks," he sighs. "Mister Reynholm," he calls to the retreating figure. When Reynholm reappears in the doorway, Roy asks, "Are you aware that you addressed that picture to the _entire_ company directory."

Reynholm looks around the room, unsure of himself. "But it _did_ get to her inbox, correct?"

"Yes," Roy quietly responds.

"Good!" And with that, Mister Reynholm again disappears.

The office is still for a moment, then both Roy and Moss look up when Jen opens her door, a vague look of nausea on her face.

"Yeah, Jen. We'll clean it up," Roy just says.

Jen nods, then disappears behind her door.

Striding to his desk, Roy says, "Moss, you take the POP3 and IMAP accounts, and I'll take the Exchange server, yeah?"

Moss, looking a bit green, gives Roy a nod, and they go about the work of removing the image from across the company's Intranet.

Once the work is complete, Roy stands and declares, "I need a drink." He glances at Moss' desk.

Moss is finally looking somewhat normal again. Checking his watch, Moss says, "Too early for a drink Roy. How about a nice cup of tea?"

"Ya, okay," Roy replies. Both men grab a coat, and then start for the lift.

Thinking of something to say to get over the awkwardness of their morning, Roy finally says, "Well that was embarrassing... Reynholm is such an arse. I mean really - _who_ sends a dick pic to the entire company?" 

The pair step into the lift, and the door closes behind them. Roy punches the button for the lobby, though the transport just holds in place. He sighs; it does this from time to time, but it rarely lasts more than a few minutes.

Moss looks a little claustrophobic, though he starts to make smalltalk himself. "That was _very_ awkward, Roy." Leaning close, he adds, "And I must say, definitely embarrassing for him."

"Right?" 

Laughing, Moss adds, "I mean come on. If you're _that_ small, do you really want to send out a picture of your bits to some random woman?"

"Yeah, I..." Roy shakes his head, like he's suddenly drunk. As his head stops spinning, he looks curiously at Moss. "Wait. What do you mean _that small_?"

Moss looks a bit green again. "Roy," he says, voice tremulous.

"No, Moss. Seriously," he says, clearly exasperated. "That was like... I dunno, six inches? It's pretty average."

Cocking his head to the side, Moss considers Roy's statement. He finally bobs his head and says, "Well that's good information to have." He glances to the buttons, pressing the one for 'Lobby' once more, and the lift finally engages. 

Roy studies his friend, who can't make eye contact with him. "Moss," he finally says, though Moss ignores him. The lift arrives at the lobby, and Moss shoots out and quickly makes his way through the secure doors, Roy following closely behind. When they're in a mob of people at the shops, he drops the subject. They both order a tea, and then quietly make their way back to the office.

As soon as they re-enter, Roy notices that Jen's office door is open and she's vacated for yet another meeting. He closes the door to IT, and then sets his styrofoam cup of tea down, crossing his arms. "Okay, spill," he says as Moss logs back onto the network.

"I don't know what you mean, Roy," Moss says, not catching his eye.

Coming to stand at the side of Moss' desk, Roy again crosses his arms and says, "Seriously, Moss. If you think six inches is small, well then..." He thinks about his next words carefully, then takes a chance and says, "Well then I'm only slightly above average."

The tactic works, as Moss stops typing and glances up, clearly intrigued. Even though they're alone, and Roy made quite the effort of showing he'd locked the door so they were effectively secluded from the rest of the building, Moss still hushes his voice as he whispers, "How big is yours, then?"

"I asked you first," Roy defiantly replies.

"Eleven inches," Moss says, matter of fact.

Clearly taken aback, Roy protests, "Bollocks!" He glances around, and then says, "Let me see."

Moss considers it, replying, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"Well it's not eleven bloody inches," Roy says. But as his fingers go to his belt, then the buttons of his cords, he makes fast work and them, his pants coming down in quick succession, leaving him naked from the waist to where his trousers and pants puddle at his feet. And while the air is cool against his skin, he feels flushed as Moss stands, then steps nearer, considering Roy's nude form.

"You still have your foreskin," Moss says quietly, hesitant fingers reaching out. Roy leans forward just an inch, giving Moss the go-ahead, enjoying the sensation when Moss' thumb and forefinger tentatively touch Roy's cock, the thumb going underneath Roy's foreskin. 

Roy can't help but let out a moan as barely calloused fingers stroke him to full hardness. He looks down, noting the massive erection hiding behind the coarse fabric of Moss' slacks, so he reaches out, cupping Moss through the material. "Jesus, Moss," he says.

Before either of them know what they're doing, they're settled on the department couch, fingers roaming each other's bodies until Roy licks his palm and starts to jack Moss' cock. It doesn't take long, with a little more spit and rubbing his thumb over Moss' engorged cockhead, for Moss to groan loudly, a whimper announcing his impending orgasm. So Roy leans over, kissing Moss and swallowing down a moan as his hands coax Moss through a gushing orgasm, and through several shudders until he's spent.

"Wow," Moss says, looking and sounding more confident than he has in all the time Roy's known him. "I've kind of wanted to do that for quite a while now, Roy," he confesses, voice just barely shy while a bright smile across his face.

Holding a mischievous smile of his own, Roy takes Moss' free hand and guides it to his leaking cock. "Well, you could return the favor," he says, then lets himself go as Moss swipes his thumb under Roy's taught foreskin. He reclines into the couch and gives himself over to pleasure as Moss leans down, taking Roy's cock between his lips, and shuts out everything except the overwhelming sensations Moss coaxes out of him with his slick tongue and warm mouth.


End file.
